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t 


A NARRATIVE 

OF THE 

LOSS OF THE KENT, 

BY FIRE, 


THE BAY OF BISCAY, 


ON THE FIRST OF MARCH, 1825, 


IN A LETTER TO A FRIEND, 


BY A PASSENGER. 

r, V-? C ° n ^o, 

zh/lM. Mtw M .-<0. , v 'iA*. , * ■: 


7 




Ov , 


NEW-YORK t 

SAXTON & MI LE S', ' 

PUBLISHERS AND BOOKSELLERS, 
205 BROADWAY. 

1842. 

/ 


/ 
























INTRODUCTION. 


The following narrative was written by 
a Major in the East India Company’s service. 
It has not, it is believed, been previously 
published entire, in the United States. It 
is reprinted verbatim from the original, and 
presented in a form adapted for general 
circulation. 

This narrative exhibits the various and 
imminent perils to which they are exposed, 
who “ go down to the sea in ships and it 
displays, amongst “ the works of the Lord 
and his wonders in the deep,” his signal 
interposition for their deliverance. It affords 
example of the noble spirit of seamen, which 
prompts them to rescue the lives of their 
fellow-men, at the hazard of their own. It 

1 


• IV 


INTRODUCTION. 


presents to our view the magnanimous de- 
meanor of military officers, and the no less 
gallant bearing of subordinates, at the mo- 
ment when all human distinctions of rank 
appeared about to cease forever. We have 
here exhibited heroic fortitude, in the female 
bosom ; the tenderest charities of domestic 
life, in lively exercise ; and the most touch- 
ing instances of self-abandonment and de- 
votedness to others, in every class. Above 
all else, we here behold the power of our 
divine religion to sustain the Christian calm, 
collected, confiding, and secure, on occasions, 
when, such as are devoid of its principles and 
influence, abandon themselves to senseless 
stupor, or frantic despair. In brief, we know 
not, if, within the compass of the same num- 
ber of pages, we have seen presented, in real 
life, so great variety and so rapid succession 
of uncommon incidents, accompanied by as 
striking and varied a development of human 
character. This tale is adapted to call into 
exercise the best sympathies of our nature, 
and is replete with most valuable instruction. 


INTRODUCTION - . 


V 


It is commended to the perusal of naval men, 
of youth, and of the public generally. 

May the most benign influence be diffused, 

through the medium of this little volume. 

< 

May it, especially, tend to excite interest for 
the Mariner, and induce prayer and action 
to convey to his bosom the purity, peace, 
and trust, the hopes, and joys, which flow 
from faith in the Son of God. 



NARRATIVE 


OP THE 

LOSS OF THE KENT. 


With the twofold view of gratifying the live- 
ly interest excited in the minds of our friends, by 
the awful and afflicting calamity that has lately be- 
fallen the “ Kent” East Indiaman, and of hum- 
bly recording the signal interposition of that God, 
“ who, in the midst of judgment remembereth 
mercy,” I am induced to transmit to you — to be 
disposed of as you may think fit — the following 
detailed account of the melancholy event, which 
has at once deprived the country of many valua- 
ble lives, and thereby plunged numerous families 
into the deepest distress ; and involved, I fear, 
in pecuniary ruin, or reduced to extreme em- 
barrassment, most of the gallant survivors. 

You are aware that the Kent, Captain Henry 
Cobb, a fine new ship of 1350 tons, bound to 


4 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


Bengal and China, left the Downs on the I9th 
of February, with 20 officers, 344 soldiers, 43 
women, and 6G children, belonging to the 31st 
regiment ; with 20 private passengers, and a crew 
(including officers) of 148 men on board. 

The bustle attendant on a departure for In- 
dia, is undoubtedly calculated to subdue the 
force of those deeply painful sensations to which 
few men can refuse to yield, in the immediate 
prospect of a long and distant separation from the 
land of their fondest and earliest recollections. 
With my gallant shipmates, indeed, whose elas- 
ticity of spirits is remarkably characteristic of 
the professions to which they belonged, hope 
appeared greatly to predominate over sadness. 
Surrounded as they were by every circumstance 
that could render their voyage propitious, and 
in the ample enjoyment of every necessary that 
could contribute either to their health or com- 
fort, — their hearts seemed to beat high with con- 
tentment and gratitude towards that country 
which they zealously served, and whose inte- 
rests they were cheerfully going forth to defend. 

With a fine fresh breeze from the north-east, 
the stately Kent, in bearing down the channel, 
speedily passed many a well-known spot on the 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


coast, dear to our remembrance ; and on the 
evening of the 23d, we took our last view of 
happy England, and entered the wide Atlantic, 
without the expectation of again seeing land un- 
til we reached the shores of India. 

With slight interruptions of bad weather, we 
continued to make way, until the night of Mon- 
r day, the 28th, when we were suddenly arrested 
in lat. 47° 30', long. 10°, by a violent gale from 
the south-west, which gradually increased during 
the whole of the following morning. 

To those who have never “ gone down to the 
sea in ships, and seen the wonders of the Lord 
in the great deep,” or even to such as have never 
been exposed in a westerly gale to the tremen- 
dous swell in the Bay of Biscay, I am sensible 
that the most sober description of the magnificent 
spectacle of “ watery hills in full succession 
flowing,” would appear sufficiently exaggerated. 
But it is impossible, I think, for the inexperienced 
mariner, however unreflecting he may try to be, 
to view the effects of the increasing storm, as he 
feels his solitary vessel reeling to and fro under 
his feet, without involuntarily raising his thoughts, 
with a secret confession of helplessness and ven- 
eration that he may never before have experi- 

1 * 


6 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


enced, towards that mysterious Being, whose 
power, under ordinary circumstances, we may 
entirely disregard, and whose incessant goodness 
we are too prone to requite with ingratitude. 

The activity of the officers and seamen of the 
Kent appeared to keep ample pace with that of 
the gale. Our larger sails were speedily taken 
in, or closely reefed ; and about ten o’clock on 
the morning of the 1st of March, after having 
struck our top-gallant yards, we were lying to, 
under a triple-reefed main top-sail only, with 
our dead lights in, and with the whole watch of 
soldiers attached to the life-lines, that were run 
along the deck for this purpose. 

The rolling of the ship, which was vastly in- 
creased by a dead weight of some hundred tons 
of shot and shells that formed a part of its lad- 
ing, became so great about half-past eleven or 
twelve o’clock, that our main-chains were thrown 
by every lurch considerably under water ; and 
the best cleated articles of furniture in the cab- 
ins and the cuddy were dashed about with so 
much noise and violence, as to excite the liveli- 
est apprehensions of individual danger. 

It was a little before this period that one of 
the officers of the ship, with the well-meant in- 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


tention of ascertaining that all was fast below, 
descended with two of the sailors into the hold, 
where they carried with them, for safety, a light 
in the patent lantern ; and seeing that the lamp 
burned dimly, the officer took the precaution to 
hand it up to the orlop deck to be trimmed. 
Having afterwards discovered one of the spirit 
casks to be adrift, he sent the sailors for some 
billets of wood to secure it ; but the ship in 
their absence having made a heavy lurch, the 
officer unfortunately dropped the light ; and let- 
ting go his hold of the cask in his eagerness to 
recover the lantern, it suddenly stove, and the 
spirits communicating with the lamp, the whole 
place was instantly in a blaze. 

I know not what steps were then taken ; but 
having received the alarming information that 
the ship was on fire in the after-hold, I hastened 
to the hatchway, whence smoke was slowly as- 
cending, and where Captain Cobb and other 
officers were giving orders, which were promptly 
obeyed by the seamen and troops, who used 
every exertion by means of the pumps, buckets 
of water, wet sails, hammocks, &c. to extin- 
guish the flames. Finding, however, that the 
devouring element was rapidly spreading, and 


8 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


that volumes of smoke were issuing from all the 
four hatchways, Captain Cobb, with an ability 
and decision of character that seemed to in- 
crease with the imminence of the danger, re- 
sorted to the only alternative now left him, of 
ordering the lower decks to be scuttled, the 
combings of the hatches to be cut, and the lower 
ports to be opened, for the free admission of the 
watery element. 

These instructions were speedily executed by 
the united efforts of the troops and seamen ; but 
not before some of the sick soldiers, one woman, 
and several children, unable to gain the upper 
deck, had perished. On descending to the gun 
deck with Colonel Fearon, Captain Bray, and 
one or two other officers of the 31st regiment, to 
assist in opening the ports, I met, staggering 
towards the hatchway, in an exhausted and 
nearly senseless state, one of the mates, who 
informed us that he had just stumbled over the 
dead bodies of some individuals who must have 
died from suffocation, to which it was evident 
that he himself had almost fallen a victim. So 
dense and oppressive was the smoke, that it was 
with the utmost difficulty we could remain long 
enough below to fulfil Captain Cobb’s wishes ; 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 9 

which were no sooner accomplished, than the 
sea rushed in with extraordinary force, carrying 
away, in its resistless progress to the hold, the 
largest chests, bulk-heads, &c. 

Such a sight, under anv other conceivable 

circumstances, was well calculated to have filled 

« 

us wiih horror ; but in our natural solicitude to 
avoid the more immediate explosion, we endea- 
voured to cheer each other, as we stood up to 
our knees in water, with the hope that by these 
violent means we should be speedily restored to 
safety. The immense quantity of water that 
was thus introduced into the hold, had indeed 
the effect, for a time, of checking the fury of 
the flames ; but the danger of sinking having 
increased as the risk of explosion was diminish- 
ed, the ship became water-logged, and presented 
other indications of settling previous to her go- 
ing down. 

Death in two of its most awful forms now en- 
compassed us, and we seemed left to choose the 
terrible alternative. But always preferring the 
more remote, though equally certain crisis, we 
tried to shut the ports again, to close the hatches, 
and to exclude the external air, in order, impos- 
sible, to prolong our existence, the near and 


10 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


certain termination of which appeared inevita- 
ble. 

The scene of horror that now presented itself 
baffles all description — 

“ Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell ; 

Then shriek’d the timid, and stood still the brave.” 

The upper deck was covered with between 
six and seven hundred human beings, many of 
whom, from previous sea-sickness, were forced, 
on the first alarm, to flee from below in a state 
of absolute nakedness, and were now running 
about in quest of husbands, children, or parents. 
While some were standing in silent resignation, 
or in stupid insensibility to their impending fate, 
others were yielding themselves up to the most 
frantic despair. Some on their knees were ear- 
nestly imploring, with significant gesticulations 
and in noisy supplications, the mercy of Him, 
whose arm they exclaimed, was at length out- 
stretched to smite them ; others were to be seen 
hastily crossing themselves, and performing the 
various external acts required by their peculiar 
persuasion ; while a number of the older and 
more stout-hearted soldiers and sailors, sullenly 
took their seats directly over the magazine, 
hoping, as they stated, that by means of the ex- 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


11 


plosion which they every instant expected, a 
speedier termination might thereby be put to 
their sufferings.* Several of the soldiers’ wives 
and children, who had fled for temporary shelter 
into the after-cabins on the upper decks, were 
engaged in prayer and in reading the Scriptures 
with the ladies, some of whom were enabled, 
with wonderful self-possession, to offer to others 
those spiritual consolations, which a firm and 
intelligent trust in the Redeemer of the world 
appeared at this awful hour to impart to their 
own breasts. The dignified deportment of two 
young ladies in particular, formed a specimen of 
natural strength of mind, finely modified by 
Christian feeling, that failed not to attract the 
notice and admiration of every one who had an 
opportunity of witnessing it. 

One young gentleman, of whose promising 
talents and piety I dare not now make further 
mention, having calmly asked me my opinion 
respecting the state of the ship, I told him that 
I thought w r e should be prepared to sleep that 

* Captain Cobb, with great forethought, ordered the deck to 
be scuttled forward, with a view to draw the fire in that direc- 
tion, knowing that between it and the magazine were several 
tiers of water casks; while he hoped that the wet sails, &c. 
thrown into the hold would prevent it from communicating with 
the spirit-room abaft. 


12 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


night in eternity ; and I shall never forget the 
peculiar fervor with which he replied, as he 
pressed my hand in his, “ My heart is filled with 
the peace of God;” adding, “yet, though I 
know it is foolish, I dread exceedingly the last 
struggle.” 

Amongst the numerous objects that struck 
my observation at this period, I was much af- 
fected with the appearance and conduct of some 
of the dear children, who, quite unconscious in 
the cuddy cabins, of the perils that surrounded 
them, continued to play as usual with their little 
toys in bed, or to put the most innocent and un- 
seasonable questions to those around them. To 
some of the older children, who seemed fully 
alive to the reality of the danger, I whispered, 
“ Now is the time to put in practice the instruc- 
tions you used to receive at the Regimental 
School, and to think of that Saviour of whom 
you have heard so much ;” they replied, as the 
tears ran down their cheeks, “ O Sir, we are 
trying to remember them, and we are praying 
to God.” 

The passive condition to which we were all 
reduced, by the total failure of our most strenu- 
ous exertions, while it was well calculated, and 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


13 


probably designed to convince ns afterwards, 
that our deliverance was effected, not “ by our 
own might or power, but by the Spirit of the 
Lord,” afforded us ample room at the moment 
for deep and awful reflection, which, it is to be 
earnestly wished, may have been improved, as 
well by those who were eventually saved, as by 
those who perished. 

It has been observed by the author of the 
(t Retrospect,” that “ in the heat of battle, it is 
not only possible but easy to forget death, and 
cease to think ; but in the cool and protracted 
hours of a shipwreck, where there is often no- 
thing to engage the mind, but the recollection 
of tried and unsuccessful labors, and the sight 
of unavoidable and increasing harbingers of de- 

O O 

struction, it is not easy nor possible to forget 
ourselves or a future state.” 

The general applicability of the latter part of 
this proposition, I am disposed to doubt ; for if 
I were to judge of the feelings of all on board, 
by those of the number who were heard to ex- 
press them, I should apprehend that a large 
majority of those men, whose previous attention 
has never been fairly and fully directed to the 

great subject of religion, approach the gates of 

o 

/W 

/ 


14 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


death, it may be, with solemnity, or with terror, 
but without any definable or tangible conviction 
of the fact that, “ after death cometh the judg- 
ment.” 

Several there were, indeed, who vowed in 
loud and piteous cries, that if the Lord God 
would spare their lives, they would thencefor- 
ward dedicate all their powers to his service ; 
and not a few were heard to exclaim, in the 
bitterness of remorse, that the judgments of the 
Most High were justly poured out upon them, 
for their neglected Sabbaths, and their profligate 
or profane lives ; but the number of those was 
extremely small, who appeared to dwell either 
with lively hope or dread on the view of an 
opening eternity. And as a farther evidence of 
the truth of this observation, I may mention, 
that when I afterwards had occasion to mount 
the mizzen shrouds, I there met with a young 
man, who had brought me a letter of introduc- 
tion from our excellent friend, Dr. G — n, to 
whom I felt it my duty, while we were rocking 
on the mast, quietly to propose the great ques- 
tion, “ What must we do to be saved V’ and this 
young gentleman has since informed Mr. P. that 
though he was at that moment fully persuaded 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


15 


of the certainty of immediate death, yet the 
subject of eternity, in any form, had not once 
flashed upon his mind, previous to my conversa- 
tion. 

While we thus lay in a state of physical iner- 
tion, but with ail our mental faculties in rapid 
and painful activity, — with the waves lashing 
furiously against the side of our devoted ship, as 
if in an o-er with the hostile element for not more 

o 

speedily performing its office of destruction, — • 
the binnacle, by one of those many lurches which 
were driving every thing moveable from side to 
side of the vessel, was suddenly wrenched from 
its fastenings, and all the apparatus of the com- 
pass dashed to pieces upon the deck ; on which 
one of the young mates, emphatically regarding 
it for a moment, cried out with the emotion so 
natural to a sailor under such circumstances, 
* ( What ! is the Kent’s compass really gone V’ 
leaving the by-standers to form, from that omen, 
their own conclusions. One promising young 
officer of the troops was seen thoughtfully re- 
moving from his writing-case a lock of hair, 
which he composedly deposited in his bosom ; 
and another officer, procuring paper, &c. ad- 
dressed a short communication to his father, 


16 


NARRATIVE OP THE 


which was afterwards carefully enclosed in a 
bottle, in the hope that it might eventually reach 
its destination, with the view, as he stated, of 
relieving him from the long years of fruitless 
anxiety and suspense which our melancholy fate 
would awaken, and of bearing his humble testi- 
mony, at a moment when his sincerity could 
scarcely be questioned, to the faithfulness of that 
God in whose mercy he trusted, and whose peace 
he largely enjoyed in the tremendous prospect of 
immediate dissolution. It was at this appalling 
instant, when “ all hope that we should be saved 
was now taken away,” and when the letter re- 
ferred to was about being committed to the 
waves, that it occurred to Mr. Thomson, the 
fourth mate, to send a man to the fore-top, rather 
with the ardent wish, than the expectation, that 
some friendly sail might be discovered on the 
face of the waters. The sailor, on mounting, 
threw his eyes round the horizon for a moment, 
— a moment of unutterable suspense, — and wa- 
ving his hat exclaimed, “ a sail on the lee bow !” 
The joyful announcement was received with 
deep-felt thanksgivings, and with three cheers 
upon deck. Our flags of distress were instantly 
hoisted, and our minute-guns fired ; and we boro 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


17 


down under our three top-sails and fore-sail upon 
the stranger, which afterwards proved to be the 
Cambria, a small brig of 200 tons burden — 
Cook — bound to Vera Cruz, having on board 
20 or 30 Cornish miners, and other agents of 
the Anglo-Mexican Company. 

For ten or fifteen minutes we were left in 
doubt whether the brig perceived our signals, or 
perceiving them, was disposed to lend us any as- 
sistance. From the violence of the gale, it seems, 
that the report of our guns was not heard ; but 
the ascending volumes of smoke from our ship, 
sufficiently announced the dreadful nature of our 
distress; and we had the satisfaction, after a short 
period of dark suspense, to see the brig hoist Brit- 
ish colors, and crowd all sail to hasten to our relief. 

/ at 

Although it was impossible, and would have 
been improper, to repress the rising hopes that 
were pretty generally diffused amongst us by the 
unexpected sight of the Cambria ; yet I confess, 
that when I reflected on the long period our 
ship had been already burning — on the tremen- 
dous sea that was running — on the extreme 
smallness of the brig, and the immense number 
of human beings to be saved, — I could only ven- 
ture to hope that a few might be spared ; but I 

2 * 


# 


18 


NARRATIVE OP THE 


durst not for a moment contemplate the possi- 

j 

bility of my own preservation. 

While Captain Cobb, Colonel Fearon, the 
commanding officer of the troops, and Major 
Macgregor of the 31st regiment, were consult- 
ing together, as the brig was approaching us, on 
the necessary preparations for getting out the 
boats, &,c. one of the officers asked Major M. in 
what order it was intended the officers should 
move off; to which the other replied, “Of course^ 
in funeral order;” which injunction was instant- 
ly confirmed by Col. Fearon, who said, “ Most 
undoubtedly, the juniors first — but see that any 
man is cut down who presumes to enter the 
boats before the means of escape are presented 
to the women and children.” 

To prevent the rush to the boats, as they were 
being lowered, which, from certain symptoms of 
impatience manifested both by soldiers and sai- 
lors, there was reason to fear, — some of the mili- 
tary officers were stationed over them with drawn 
swords. But from the firm determination which 
these exhibited, and the great subordination 
observed, with few exceptions, by the troops, 
this proper precaution was afterwards rendered 
unnecessary. 


LOSS OF THE KENT, 


19 


Arrangements having been considerately made 
by Captain Cobb for placing in the first boat, 
previous to letting it down, all the ladies, and as 
many of the soldiers’ wives as it could safely 
contain, they hurriedly wrapt themselves up in 
whatever articles of clothing could be most con- 
veniently found ; and I think about two, or half 
past two o’clock, a most mournful procession 
advanced from the after cabins to the starboard 
cuddy port, outside of which the cutter was sus- 
pended. Scarcely a word was uttered — not a 
scream was heard — even the infants ceased to 
cry, as if conscious of the unspoken and un- 
speakable anguish that was at that instant rend- 
ing the hearts of their parting parents — nor was 
the silence of voices in any way broken, except 
in one or two cases, where the ladies plaintively 
entreated permission to be left behind with their 
husbands. But on being assured that every mo- 
ment’s delay might occasion the sacrifice of a 
human life, they successively suffered themselves 
to be torn from the tender embrace, and with 
the fortitude which never fails to characterize 
and adorn their sex on occasions of overwhelm- 
ing trial, were placed, without a murmur, in the 
boat, which was immediately lowered into a sea 


20 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


so tempestuous, as to leave us only “ to hope 
against hope’ 5 that it should live in it for a sin- 
gle moment. Twice the cry was heard from 
those on the chains that the boat was swamping. 
But He, who enabled the apostle Peter to walk 
on the face of the deep, and was graciously at- 
tending to the silent but earnest aspirations of 
those on board, had decreed its safety. The 
tackle, after considerable difficulty, was un- 
hooked — the boat was dexterously cleared from 
the ship, and after a while was seen from the 
poop, battling with the billows ; — now raised, in 
its progress to the brig, like a speck on their 
summit, and then disappearing for several sec- 
onds, as if engulfed “ in the horrid vale” be- 
tween them.* The Cambria having prudently 
lain to at some distance from the Kent, lest she 
should be involved in her explosion, or exposed 
to the fire from our guns, which, being all shotted, 
afterwards went off, as the flames successively 

* I was afterwards informed by one of the passengers 
on board the Cambria, — for, from the great height of the 
Indiaman, we had not the opportunity of making a similar 
observation, — that when both vessels happened to be at 
the same time in the trough of the sea, the Kent was en- 
tirely concealed by the intervening waves from the deck 
of the Cambria. 


toss OP THE KENT. 


Ol 

L 


reached them, the men had a considerable way 
to row ; and the success of this first experiment 
seeming to be the measure of future hopes, the 
movements of this precious boat— incalculably 
precious, without doubt, to the agonized hus- 
bands and fathers immediately connected with 
it, — were watched with intense anxiety by all on 
board. In the course of twenty minutes, it was 
seen alongside the “ ark of refuge and the 
first human being that happened to be admitted, 
out of the vast assemblage that ultimately found 
shelter there, was the infant son of Major Mac- 
gregor, a child of only a few weeks old, who was 
caught from his mother’s arms, and lifted into 
the brig by Mr. Thomson, the fourth mate of 
the Kent. 

I have been told by one abundantly capable of 
judging, that the feelings of oppressive delight, 
gratitude, and praise, experienced by the married 
officers and soldiers, on being assured of the 
safety of their wives and children, so entirely 
abstracted their minds from their own situatio y n, 
as to render them for a little while afterwards 
totally insensible either to the storm that beat 
upon them, or to the active and gathering vol- 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


QO 

/VrW 

cano that threatened every instant to explode 
under their feet. 

It being impossible for the boats, after the first 
trip, to come alongside the Kent, a plan was 
adopted for lowering the women and children 
by ropes from the stern, by tying them two and 
two together. But from the heaving of the ship, 
and the extreme difficulty in dropping them at 
the instant the boat was underneath, many of 
the poor creatures were unavoidably plunged re- 
peatedly under water ; and much as humanity 
may rejoice that no woman was eventually lost 
by this process, yet it w r as as impossible to pre- 
vent, as it was deplorable to witness, the great 
sacrifice it occasioned of the younger children, — 
the same violent means which only reduced the 
parents to a state of exhaustion or insensibility, 
having entirely extinguished the vital spark in 
the feebler frames of the infants that were fast- 
ened to them. 

Amid the conflicting feelings and dispositions 
manifested by the numerous actors in this melan- 
choly drama, many affecting proofs were elicited 
of parental and filial affection, or of disinterested 
friendship, that seemed to shed a momentary 
halo around the gloomy scene. 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


23 


Two or three soldiers, to relieve their wives 
of a part of their families, sprang into the water 
with their children, and perished in their en- 
deavors to save them. One young lady, who 
had resolutely refused to quit her father, whose 
sense of duty kept him at his post, was near fall- 
ing a sacrifice to her filial devotion, not having 
been picked up by those in the boats until she 
had sunk five or six times. Another individual, 
who was reduced to the frightful alternative of 
losing his wife or his children, hastily decided 
in favor of his duty to the former. His wife was 
accordingly saved, but his four children, alas ! 
were left to perish. A fine fellow, a soldier, who 
had neither wife nor child of his own, but who 
evinced the greatest solicitude for the safety of 
those of others, insisted on having three children 
lashed to him, with whom he plunged into the 
water ; not being able to reach the boat, he was 
again drawn into the ship with his charge, but 
not before two of the children had expired. One 
man fell down the hatchway into the flames, and 
another had his back so completely broken, as to 
have been observed quite doubled falling over- 
board. These numerous spectacles of individ- 
ual loss and suffering were not confined to the 


24 


NARRATIVE OP THE 


entrance upon the perilous voyage between the 
two ships. One man, who fell between the 
boat and brig, had his head literally crushed to 
pieces ; and some others were lost in their at- 
tempts to ascend the side of the Cambria. 

Seeing that the tardy means employed for the 
escape of the women and children, necessarily 
consumed a great deal of time that might be 
partly devoted to the general preservation, or- 
ders were given that along with the females, 
each of the boats should also admit a certain 
portion of the soldiers; several of whom, in their 
impatience to take advantage of this permission, 
flung themselves overboard, and sunk, in their 
ill-judged and premature efforts for deliverance. 

One poor fellow of this number, a very re- 
spectable man, had actually reached the boat, 
and was raising his hand to lay hold on the 
gunnel, when the bow of the boat, by a sudden 
pitch, struck him on the head, and he instantly 
went down. There was a peculiarity attending 
this man’s case that deserves notice. His wife, 
to whom he was warmly attached, not having 
been of the allotted number of women to accom- 
pany the regiment abroad, resolved, in her anx- 
iety to follow her husband, to defeat this ar- 


LOSS OP THE KENT. 


25 


rangement, and accordingly repaired with the 
detachment to Gravesend, where she ingeniously 
managed, by eluding the vigilance of the sen- 
tries, to get on board, and conceal herself for 
several days ; and although she was discovered, 
and sent ashore at Deal, she contrived, a second 
time, with true feminine perseverance, to get 
between decks, where she continued to secrete 
herself until the morning of the fatal disaster. 

While the men were thus bent in various ways 
on self-preservation, one of the sailors, who had 
taken his post with many others over the maga- 
zine, awaiting with great patience the dreaded 
explosion, at last cried out, as if in ill humor 
that his expectation was likely to be disappoint- 
ed, “ Well ! if she won’t blow up, I’ll see if I 
can’t get away from her and instantly jump- 
ing up, he made the best of his way to one of 
the boats, which I understand he reached in 
safety. 

I ought to state, that three out of the six 
boats we originally possessed, were either com- 
pletely stove or swamped in the course of the 
day, one of them with men in it, some of whom 
were seen floating in the water for a moment 
before they disappeared ; and it is suspected that 

5 


26 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


one or two of those who went down, must have 
sunk under the weight of their spoils, the same 
individuals having been seen eagerly plundering 
the cuddy cabins. 

As the day was rapidly drawing to a close, and 
the flames were slowly, but perceptibly extend- 
ing, Colonel Fearon and Captain Cobb evinced 
an increasing anxiety to relieve the remainder 
of the gallant men under their charge. 

To facilitate this object, a rope was suspended 
from the extremity of the spanker boom, along 
which the men were recommended to proceed, 
and thence slide down by the rope into the 
boats. But as, from the great swell of the sea, 
and the constant heaving of the ship, it was im- 
possible for the boats to preserve their station 
for a moment ; those who adopted this course 
incurred so great a risk of swinging for some 
time in the air, and of being repeatedly plunged 
under water, or dashed against the sides of the 
boats underneath, that many of the landsmen 
continued to throw themselves out of the stern 
windows on the upper deck, preferring what ap- 
peared to me the more precarious chance of 
reaching the boats by swimming. Rafts made 
of spars, hen-coops, & c. were also ordered to be 


LOSS OP THE KENT. 


27 


constructed, for the twofold purpose of forming 
an intermediate communication with the boats, 
— a purpose, by the bye, which they very imper- 
fectly answered, — and of serving as a last point 
of retreat, should the farther extension of the 
flames compel us to desert the vessel altogether. 

The gradual removal of the officers was at 
the same time commenced, and was marked by 
a discipline the most rigid, and an intrepidity 
the most exemplary : none appearing to be in- 
fluenced by a vain and ostentatious bravery, 
which, in cases of extreme peril, affords rather 
a presumptive proof of secret timidity than of 
fortitude ; nor any betraying an unmanly or un- 
soldierlike impatience to quit the ship ; but with 
the becoming deportment of men neither para- 
lyzed by, nor stupidly insensible to, the accu- 
mulating dangers that encompassed them, they 
progressively departed in the different boats 
with their soldiers. They who happened to 
proceed first, leaving behind them an example 
of coolness, that could not be unprofitable to 
those who followed. 

But the finest illustration of their conduct, 
was displayed in that of their chief, whose abili- 
ty and invincible presence of mind, under the 


28 


NARRATIVE OP THE 


complicated responsibility and anxiety of a com- 
mander, husband, and father, were eminently 
calculated, throughout this dismal day, to inspire 
all others with composure and fortitude. Never 
for a moment did Colonel Fearon seem to forget 
the authority with which his sovereign had in- 
vested him, nor did any of his officers— as far as 
my observation went — cease to remember the 
relative situations in which they were severally 
placed. Even in the gloomiest moments of that 
dark season, when the dissolution of every 
earthly distinction seemed near at hand, the de- 
cision and confidence with which orders were 
issued on the one hand, and the promptitude 
and respect with which they were obeyed on 
the other, afford the best proofs of the stability 
of the well connected system of discipline estab- 
lished in the 31st regiment, — and the most un- 
questionable ground for the high and flattering 
commendation which his Royal Highness the 
commander-in-chief has been pleased to bestow 
upon it. 

I should, however, be guilty of injustice and 
unkindness, if I here omitted to bear my hum- 
ble testimony to the manly behavior of the East 
India Company’s cadets, and other private pas- 


LOSS OF TIIE KENT. 


29 


sengers on board, who emulated the best con- 
duct of the officers of the ship and of the troops, 
and participated with them in all the hardships 
and exertions of the day. 

As an agreeable proof too, of the subordina- 
tion and good feeling that governed the poor 
soldiers in the midst of their sufferings, I ought 
to state, that towards evening, when the melan- 
choly groups who were passively seated on the 
poop, exhausted by previous fatigue, anxiety, 
and fasting, were beginning to experience the 
pain of intolerable thirst, a box of oranges was 
accidentally discovered by some of the men, 
who, with a degree of mingled consideration, 
respect, and affection, that could hardly have 
been expected at such a moment, refused to 
partake of the grateful beverage until they had 
offered a share of it to their officers. 

I regret that the circumstances under which 
I write, do not allow me sufficient time for re- 
calling to my recollection all the busy thoughts 
that engaged my own mind on that eventful 
day, or the various conjectures which I ventured 
to form of what was passing in the minds of 
others. 

But one idea, I remember, was forcibly sug- 

3 * 


30 


NARRATIVE OP THE 


gested to me,— that instead of being able to 
trace, amongst my numerous associates, that di- 
versity of fortitude which I should have expect- 
ed, a priori , would mark their conduct, — form- 
ing, as it were, a descending series, from the 
decided heroism exhibited by some, down to the 
lowest degree of pusillanimity and frenzy, dis- 
coverable in others, — I remarked that the men- 
tal condition of my fellow-sufferers was rather 
divided by a broad, but as it afterwards appeared, 
not impassable line ; on the one side of which 

were ranged all whose minds were greatly ele- 

# 

vated by the excitement above their ordinary 
standard; and on the other was to be seen the in- 
calculably smaller, but more conspicuous group, 
whose powers of acting and thinking became 
absolutely paralyzed, or were driven into deliri- 
um, by the unusual character and pressure of 
the danger. 

Nor was it uninteresting to observe the curious 
interchange, at least externally, of strength and 
weakness that obtained between those two dis- 
cordant parties, during the day. Some, whose 
agitation and timidity had, in the earlier part of 
it, rendered them objects of pity or contempt, 
afterwards rose by some great internal effort, in- 


LOSS OF THE KENT. - 31 

to positive distinction for the opposite qualities ; 
while others, remarkable at first for calmness 
and courage, suddenly giving way, without any 
fresh cause of despair, seemed afterwards to cast 
their minds as they did their bodies, prostrate 
before the danger. 

It were not difficult, perhaps, to account for 
these apparent anomalies ; but I shall content 
myself with simply stating the facts, adding to 
them one of a similar description that sensibly 
affected my own mind. 

Some of the soldiers near me having casually 
remarked that the sun was setting, I looked 
round, and never can I forget the intensity with 
which I regarded his declining rays. 1 had pre- 
viously felt deeply impressed with the conviction 
that that night the ocean was to be my bed ; and 
had, I imagined, sufficiently realized to my 
mind, both the last struggles and the conse- 
quences of death. But as I continued solemnly 
watching the departing beams of the sun, the 
thought that that was really the very last I 
should ever behold, gradually expanded into re- 
flections, the most tremendous in their import. — 
It was not, I am persuaded, either the retrospect 
of a most unprofitable life, or the direct fear of 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


32 


death or of judgment, that occupied my mind at 
the period I allude to ; but a broad, illimitable 
view of eternity itself, altogether abstracted from 
the misery or felicity that flows through it, — a 
sort of painless, pleasureless, sleepless eternity. 
I know not whither the overwhelming thought 
would have hurried me, had I not speedily 
seized, as with the grasp of death, on some of 
those sweet promises of the gospel, which give 
to an immortal existence its only charms ; and 
that naturally enough led back my thoughts, by 
means of the brilliant object before me, to the 
contemplation of that “ blessed city, which hath 
no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine 
in it ; for the glory of God doth lighten it, and 
the Lamb is the li^ht thereof.” 

w 

I have been the more particular in recording 
my precise feelings at the period in question, 
because they tend to confirm an opinion which 
I have long entertained, — in common, I believe, 
with yourself and others, — that we very rarely 
realize even those objects that seem, in our eve- 
ry day speculations, to be the most interesting 
to our hearts. We are so much in the habit of 
uttering the awful words — Almighty, heaven, 
hell, eternity, divine justice, holiness, &c. with- 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


33 


out attaching to them, in all their magnitude, 
the ideas of which such words are the symbols, 
that we become overwhelmed with much of the 
astonishment that accompanies a new and alarm- 
ing discovery, if, at any time, the ideas them- 
selves are suddenly and forcibly impressed upon 
us ; and it is probably this vagueness of concep- 
tion, experienced even by those whose minds 
are not altogether unexercised on the subject of 
religion, that enables others, devoid of all reflec- 
tion whatever, to stand on the very brink of that 
precipice, which divides the world of time from 
the regions of eternity, not only with apparent, 
but frequently, I am persuaded, with real tran- 
quillity. How much is it to be lamented, that 
we do not keep in mind a truth which no one 
can pretend to dispute, that our indifference or 
blindness to danger, whether it be temporal or 
eternal, cannot possibly remove or diminish the 
extent of it. 

Some time after the shades of night had en- 
veloped us, I descended to the cuddy, in quest 
of a blanket to shelter me from the increasing 
cold ; and the scene of desolat ion that there pre- 
sented itself, was melancholy in the extreme. 
The place which, only a few short hours before, 


/ 


34 


NARRATIVE OP THE 


had been the seat of kindly intercourse, and of 
social gaiety, was now entirely deserted, save by 
a few miserable wretches, who were either 
stretched in irrecoverable intoxication on the 
floor, or prowling about, like beasts of prey, in 
search of plunder. The sofas, drawers, and 
other articles of furniture, the due arrangement 
of which had cost so much thought and pains, 
were now broken into a thousand pieces, and 
scattered in confusion around me. Some of the 
geese and other poultry, escaped from their con- 
finement, were cackling in the cuddy ; while a 
solitary pig, wandering from its stye in the fore- 
castle, was ranging at large in undisturbed pos- 
session of the Brussels carpet that covered one 
of the cabins. Glad to retire from a scene so 
cheerless and affecting, and rendered more dis- 
mal by the smoke which was oozing up from 
below, I returned to the poop, where I again 
found Captain Cobb, Colonel Fearon, and the 
few officers that remained, superintending with 
unabated zeal, the removal of the rapidly dimin- 
ishing sufferers, as the boats successively arrived 
to carry them off. 

The alarm and impatience of the people in- 
creased in a high ratio as the night advanced ; 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


85 


and our fears, amid the surrounding darkness, 
were fed as much by the groundless or exagge- 
rated reports of the timid, as by the real and 
evident approach of the fatal crisis itself. With 
a view to ensure a greater probability of being 
discovered by those in the boats, some of the 
more collected and hardy soldiers (for I think 
almost all the sailors had already effected their 
escape,) took the precaution to tie towels and 
such like articles round their heads, previously 
to their committing themselves to the water. 

As the boats were nearly three quarters of an 
hour absent between each trip, which period 
was necessarily spent by those in the wreck in a 
state of fearful inactivity, — abundant opportu- 
nity was afforded for collecting the sentiments 
of many of the unhappy men around me ; some 
of whom, after remaining perhaps for a while in 
silent abstraction, would suddenly burst forth, 
as if awakened from some terrible dream, to a 
still more frightful reality, into a long train of 
loud and desponding lamentation, that gradually 
subsided into its former stillness. 

It was during those trying intervals of rest, 
that religious instruction and consolation ap- 
peared to be the most required, and the most 


36 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


acceptable. Some there were, accordingly, 
who endeavored to dispense it agreeably to the 
visible wants and feelings of the earnest hearers. 
On one of those occasions, especially, the offi- 
cer to whom I have already alluded, was en- 
treated to pray. His prayer was short, but was 
frequently broken by the exclamations of assent 
to some of its confessions, that were wrung from 
the afflicted hearts of his honest auditors. 

I know not in what manner, under those cir- 
cumstances, spiritual hope or comfort could have 
been ministered to my afflicted companions, by 
those who regard works, either wholly or partly, 
as the means of propitiating Divine Justice, 
rather than the evidence and fruits of that faith 
which pacifies the conscience and purifies the 
heart. But in some few cases, at least, where 
the individuals deplored the want of time for re- 
pentance and good works, I well remember that 
no arguments tended to soothe their troubled 
minds, but those which went directly to assure 
them of the freeness and fulness of that grace 
which is not refused, even in the eleventh hour, 
to the very chief of sinners. And if any of 
those to whom I now allude, have been spared 
to read this record of their feelings in the pros- 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


37 


pect of death, it will he well for them to keep 
solemnly in mind the vows they then took upon 
them, and to seek to improve that season of 
probation which they so earnestly besought, and 
which has been so mercifully extended to them, 
— by humbly and incessantly applying for acces- 
sions of that faith which they are sensible re- 
moved the terrors of their awakened consciences, 
and can alone enable them henceforward to live 
in a sober, righteous, and godly manner, — and 
thereby give the only unquestionable proof of 
their love to God, and their interest in the great 
salvation of his Son Jesus Christ. 

If, on reading this imperfect narrative, any 
persons beyond the immediate circle of my 
companions in misery, (for within it I can safely 
declare that there were no indications of ridi- 
cule,) should affect to despise, as contemptible 
or unsoldierlike, the humble devotional exer- 
cises to which 1 have now referred, I should 
like to assure them, that although they were un- 
doubtedly commenced and prosecuted, much 
more with an eternal than a temporal object in 
view, yet they also subserved the important pur- 
pose of restoring order and composure amongst 
a certain limited class of the soldiers, at mo- 

4 


38 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


merits when mere military appeals had ceased 
to operate with their wonted influence. 

I must state, that in general , it was riot those 
most remarkable for their fortitude who evinced 
either a precipitancy to depart, or a desire to 
remain very long behind — the older and cooler 
soldiers appearing to possess too much regard 
for their officers, as well as for their individual 
credit, to take their hasty departure at a very 
early period of the day, and too much wisdom 
and resolution to hesitate to the very last. 

But it was not till the close of this mournful 
tragedy that backwardness, rather than impa- 
tience, to adopt the perilous and only means of 
escape that offered, became generally discerni- 
ble on the part of the unhappy remnant still on 
board ; — and that made it not only imperative 
on Captain Cobb to reiterate his threats, as well 
as his entreaties, that not an instant should be 
lost, but seemed to render it expedient for one 
of the officers of the troops, who had expressed 
his intention of remaining to the last, to limit, 
in the hearing of those around him, the period 
of his own stay. Seeing, however, between 
nine and ten o’clock, that some individuals 
were consuming the precious moments, by ob- 


LOSS OP THE KENT. 


39 


stinately hesitating to proceed, while others were 
making the inadmissible request to be lowered 
down as the women had been ; learning from 
the boatmen that the wreck, which was already 
nine or tea feet below the ordinary water mark, 
had sunk two feet lower since their last trip ; 
and calculating, besides, that the two boats un- 
der the stern, with that which was in sight on 
its return from the brig, would suffice for the 
conveyance of all who seemed in a condition to 
remove : the three remaining officers of the 31st 
regiment seriously prepared to take their de- 
parture. 

As I cannot perhaps convey to you so correct 
an idea of the condition of others as by describ- 
ing my own feelings and situation under the 
same circumstances, I shall make no apology 
for detailing the manner of my individual escape, 
which will sufficiently mark that of many hun- 
dreds that preceded it. 

The spanker boom of so large a ship as the 
Kent, which projects, I should think, 16 or 18 
feet over the stern, rests on ordinary occasions 
about 19 or 20 feet above the water ; but in the 
position in which we were placed, from the great 
height of the sea, and consequent pitching of 


40 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


the ship, it was frequently lifted to a height not 
less than 30 or 40 feet from the surface. 

To reach the rope, therefore, that hung from 
its extremity, was an operation that seemed to 
require the aid of as much dexterity of hand as 
steadiness of head. For it was not only the ner- 
vousness of creeping along the boom itself, or 
the extreme difficulty of afterwards seizing on, 
and sliding down by the rope, that we had to 
dread, and that had occasioned the loss of some 
valuable lives, by deterring them from adopting 
this mode of escape ; but as the boat, which one 
montent was probably close under the boom, 
might be carried the next, by the force of the 
waves, 15 or 20 yards away from it, the unhappy 
individual, whose best calculations were thus 
defeated, was generally left swinging for some 
time in mid-air, if he was not repeatedly plunged 
several feet under water, or dashed with danger- 
ous violence against the sides of the returning 
boat — or, what not unfrequently happened, was 
forced to let go his hold of the rope altogether. 
As there seemed, however, no alternative, I did 
not hesitate, notwithstanding my comparative in- 
experience and awkwardness in such a situation, 
to throw my legs across the perilous stick ; and 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


41 


with a heart extremely grateful, that such means 
of deliverance, dangerous as they appeared, were 

still extended to me ; and more grateful still 

1 \ 

that 1 had been enabled, in common with others, 
to discharge my honest duty to my sovereign and 
to my fellow-men ; — 1 proceeded, after confi- 
dently committing my spirit, the great object of 
my solicitude, into the keeping of Him who had 
formed and redeemed it, to creep slowly forward, 
feeling at every step the increasing difficulty of 
my situation. On getting nearly to the end of 
the boom, the young officer whom 1 followed 
and myself were met with a squall of wind and 
rain, so violent as to make us fain to embrace 
closely the slippery stick, without attempting for 
some minutes to make any progress, and to ex- 
cite our apprehension that we must relinquish 
all hope of reaching the rope. But our fears 
were disappointed : and after resting for a little 
while at the boom end, while my companion was 
descending to the boat, which he did not find 
until he had been plunged once or twice over 
head in the water, I prepared to follow; and in- 
stead of lowering myself, as many had impru- 
dently done, at the moment when the boat was 
inclining towards us, — and consequently being 

4 * 


42 


NARRATIVE OF TFTK 


unable to descend the whole distance before it 
again receded, — I calculated that while the boat 
was retiring 1 ought to commence my descent, 
which would probably be completed by the time 
the returning wave brought it underneath ; by 
which means I was almost the only officer or sol- 
dier who reached the boat without being either 
severely bruised or immersed in the water. But 
my friend Colonel Fearon had not been so for- 
tunate ; for after swinging for some time, and 
being repeatedly strutk against the side of the 
boat, and at one time drawn completely under 
it, he was at last so utterly exhausted, that he 
must instantly have let go his hold of the rope and 
perished, had not some one in the boat seized 
him by the hair of the head and dragged him in- 
to it, almost senseless and dreadfully bruised. 

Captain Cobb, in his immoveable resolution 
to be the last if possible to quit his ship, and in 
his generous anxiety for the preservation of eve- 
ry life intrusted to his charge, refused to seek 
the boat, until he again endeavored to urge on- 
ward the very few still around him, who seemed 
struck dumb and powerless with dismay. But 
finding all his entreaties fruitless, and hearing 
the guns, whose tackle was burst asunder by the 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


43 


advancing flames, successively exploding in the 
hold into which they had fallen, — this gallant 
officer, after having nobly pursued, for the pre- 
servation of others, a course of exertion that has 
been rarely equalled either in its duration or dif- 
ficulty, at last felt it right to provide for his own 
safety, by laying hold on the topping-lift, or rope 
that connects the driver-boom with the mizzen- 
top, and thereby getting over the heads of the 
infatuated men who occupied the boom, unable 
to go either backward or forward, and ultimate- 
ly dropping himself into the water. 

The means of escape, however, did not cease 
to be represented to the unfortunate individuals 
above referred to, long after Captain Cobb took 
his departure, — since one of the boats perse- 
vered in keeping its station under the Kent’s 
stern, not only after all expostulation and en- 
treaty with those on board had failed, but until 
the flames, bursting forth from the cabin win- 
dows, rendered it impossible to remain, without 
inflicting the greatest cruelly on the individuals 

that manned it. But even on the return of the 

* 

boat in question to the Cambria, with the single 
soldier who availed himself of it, did Captain 
Cobb, with characteristic jealousy, refuse to 


44 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


allow it to come alongside, until he learned that 
it was commanded by the spirited young officer, 
Mr. Thomson * whose indefatigable exertions 
during the whole day, were to him a sufficient 
proof, that all had been done that could be done 
for the deliverance of those infatuated men. 
But the same beneficent Providence which had 
been so wonderfully exerted for the preservation 
of hundreds, was pleased, by a still more strik- 
ing and unquestionable display of power and 
goodness, to avert the fate of a portion of those 
few who, we had all too much reason to fear, 
were doomed to destruction. 

It would appear, for the poor men themselves 
give an extremely confused, though I am per- 
suaded not a wilfully false, account of them- 
selves, that shortly after the departure of the last 
boat, they were driven by the flames to seek 
shelter on the chains, where they stood until the 
masts fell overboard, to which they then clung 
for some hours, in a state of horror that no lan- 
guage can describe ; until they were most prov- 
identially, 1 may say miraculously discovered 
and picked up, by the humane master (Bibbey) 


* I ought to stale that the exertions of Mr. Muir, 3d mate, 
were also most conspicuous during the whole day. 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


45 


of the “Caroline,” a vessel on its passage from 
Egypt to Liverpool, who happened to see the 
explosion at a great distance, and instantly made 
all sail in the direction whence it proceeded. 
Along with the fourteen men thus miraculously 
preserved were three others, who had expired 
before the arrival of the Caroline for their rescue. 

The men on their return to their regiment 
expressed themselves in terms of the liveliest 
gratitude for the affectionate attentions they re- 
ceived on board the Caroline, from Captain Bib- 
bey, who considerately remained till day-light 
close to the wreck, in the hope that some others 
might still be found clinging to it ; — an act of 
humanity which, it will appear on the slightest 
reflection, would have been madness in Captain 
Cook, in the peculiar situation of the Cambria, 
to have attempted. 

In reference to tins last most melancholy por- 
tion of my narrative, I feel it extremely painful 
to be obliged to hazard an opinion, that if the 
whole crew of the Kent had put forth, from the 
beginning, the same generous and seamanlike 
efforts which several of them undoubtedly did, 
the few soldiers who were thus left behind 
would most probably have been safely disposed 


46 NARRATIVE OF THE 

of before the advance of the flames or their own 
terror had incapacitated them, in the manner I 
have endeavored to describe, from effecting their 
escape. But if, apart from this grievous consid- 
eration, I only recollect the lamentable state of 
exhaustion to which that portion of the crew 
were reduced, who unshrinkingly performed to 
the last their arduous and perilous duties, — and 
that out of the three boats that remained afloat, 
one was only prevented from sinking towards 
the close of the night, by having the hole in its 
bottom repeatedly stuffed with soldiers’ jackets; 
while the other two were rendered inefficient, 
the one by having its bow completely stove, and 
the second by being half filled with water, and 
the thwarts so torn as to make it necessary to 
lash the oars to the boat’s ribs, — I must believe 
that, independently of the counteracting circum- 
stances formerly mentioned, all was done that 
humanity could possibly demand, or intrepidity 
effect, for the preservation of every individual. 

Quitting, for a moment, the subject of the 
wreck, I would advert to what was in the mean 
time taking place on board the Cambria. I can- 
not, however, pretend to give you any adequate 
idea of the feelings of hope or despair, that al- 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


47 

ternately flowed, like a tide, in the breasts of the 
unhappy females on board the brig, during the 
many hours of torturing suspense in which seve- 
ral of them were unavoidably held, respecting 
the fate of their husbands; — feelings which were 
inconceivably excited, rather than soothed, by 
the idle and erroneous rumors occasionally con- 
veyed to them, regarding the state of the Kent. 
But still less can l attempt to portray the alter- 
nate pictures of awful joy, and of wild distrac- 
tion, exhibited by the sufferers, (for both parties 
for the moment seemed equally to suffer,) as the 
terrible truth was communicated, that they and 
their children were indeed left husbandless and 
fatherless ; or as the objects from whom they 
had feared they were forever severed, suddenly 
rushed into their arms. 

But these feelings of delight, whatever may 
have been their intensity, were speedily chasten- 
ed, and the attention of all arrested, by the last 
tremendous spectacle of destruction. 

After the arrival of the last boat, the flames, 
which had spread along the upper deck and 
poop, ascended with the rapidity of lightning to 
the masts and rigging, forming one general con- 
flagration, that illumined the heavens to an im- 


48 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


mense distance, and was strongly reflected on 

7 O J 

several objects on board the brig. The flags of 
distress, hoisted in the morning, were seen for a 
considerable time waving amid the flames, until 
the masts to which they were suspended succes- 
sively fell like stately steeples, over the ship’s 
side. At last, about half-past one o’clock in the 
morning, the devouring element having commu- 
nicated to the magazine, the long threatened 
explosion was seen, and the, blazing fragments 
of the once magnificent Kent were instantly hur- 
ried, like so many rockets, high into the air ; 
leaving, in the comparative darkness that suc- 
ceeded, the deathful scene of that disastrous 
day floating before the mind like some feverish 
dream.* 

Shortly afterwards the brig, which had been 
gradually making sail, was running at the rate 
of nine or ten miles an hour towards the nearest 
port. 1 would here endeavor to render my hum- 
ble tribute of admiration and gratitude to that 
gallant and excellent individual who, under God, 
was undoubtedly the chief instrument of our de- 
liverance, — if I were not sensible that testimony 

'■* The brig - was about three miles distant from the Kent at 
the period of its explosion. / 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


49 


/ 

has been already borne to his heroic and humane 
efforts, in a manner much more commensurate 
with, and from quarters reflecting infinitely great- 
er honor upon, his merits, than the feeble ex- 
pressions of them which I should be able to re- 
con]. I shall therefore content myself with ap- 
pending to this letter some of the gratifying tes- 
timonials to which I refer. But T trust you will 
keep in mind, that Captain Cook’s generous in- 
tentions and exertions must have proved utterly 
unavailing for the preservation of so many lives, 
had they not been most nobly and unremittingly 
supported by those of his mate and crew, as well 
as of the numerous passengers on board his brig. 
While the former, only eight in number, were 
usefully and necessarily employed in working 
the vessel, the sturdy Cornish miners and York- 
shire smelters, on the approach of the different 
boats, took their perilous station on the chains, 
where they put forth the great muscular strength 
with which Heaven had endowed them, in dex- 
terously seizing, at each successive heave of the 
sea, on some of the exhausted people and drag- 
ging them upon deck. Nor did their kind anx- 
ieties terminate there. They, and the gentlemen 
connected with them, cheerfully opened their 

5 „ 


50 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


ample stores of clothes and provisions, which 
they liberally dispensed to the naked and fam- 
ished sufferers ; — they surrendered their beds to 
the helpless women and children, and seemed, 
in short, during the whole of our passage to En- 
gland, to take no other delight than in minister- 
ing to all our wants. 

Although, after the first burst of mutual gratu- 
lation, and of becoming acknowledgment of the 
Divine mercy, on account of our unlooked for 
deliverance, had subsided, none of us felt dispo- 
sed to much interchange of thought, each being 
rather inclined to wrap himself up in his own re- 
flections ; yet we did not, during this first night, 
view with the alarm it warranted, the extreme 
misery and danger to which we were still ex- 
posed, by being crowded together, in a gale of 
wind, with upwards of GOO human beings, in a 
small brig of 200 tons, at a distance, too, of sev- 
eral hundred miles from any accessible port. 
Our little cabin, which was only calculated, un- 
der ordinary circumstances, for the accommoda- 
tion of eight or ten persons, was now made to 
contain nearly eighty individuals, many of whom 
had no sitting-room, and even some of the ladies 
no room to lie down. Owing to the continued 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


51 


violence of the gale, and to the bulwarks on one 
side of the brig having been driven in, the sea 
beat so incessantly over our deck, as to render 
it necessary that the hatches should only be lift- 
ed up between the returning waves, to prevent 
absolute suffocation below, where the men were 
so closely packed together, that the steam arising 
from their respiration excited at one time an ap- 
prehension that the vessel was on fire ; while 
the impurity of the air they were inhaling be- 
came so marked that the lights occasionally car- 
ried down amongst them were almost instantly 
extinguished. Nor was the condition of the 
hundreds who covered the deck, less wretched 
than that of their comrades below ; since they 
were obliged, night and day, to stand shivering, 
in their wet and nearly naked state, ancle deep 
in water : — some of the older children and fe- 
males were thrown into fits, while the infants 
were pitifully crying for that nourishment which 
their nursing-mothers were no longer able to 
give them.* 

* One of the soldiers’ wives was delivered of a child about an 
hour or two after her arrival on board the brig 1 . Both she and 
the child, who has since received the appropriate name of Cam- 
bria, are doing well. 


52 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


Our only hope amid these great and accumu- 
lating miseries, was, that the same compassion- 
ate Providence which had already so marvel- 
lously interposed in our hehalf, would not per- 
mit the wind to abate or change, until we reach- 
ed some friendly port ; for we were all convinced 
that a delay of a very few days longer at sea, 
must inevitably involve us in famine, pestilence, 
and a complication of the most dreadful evils. — 
Our hopes were not disappointed. The gale 
continued with even increasing violence ; and 
our able captain, crowding all sail at the risk 
of carrying away his masts, so nobly urged his 
vessel onward, that in the afternoon of Thurs- 
day the dd, the delightful exclamation from aloft 
was heard, “ Land a-head !” In the evening 
we descried the Sciliy lights ; and running rap- 
idly along the Cornish coast, we joyfully cast 
anchor in Falmouth harbor, about half-past 
twelve o’clock on the following morning.* 

On reviewing the various proximate causes to 
which so many human beings owed their deliv- 
erance from a combination of dangers, as re- 
markable for their duration, as they were ap- 
palling in their aspect, it is impossible, I think, 


* i, e. half an hour after midnight. 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


53 


not to discover and gratefully acknowledge, in 
the beneficence of their arrangement, the over- 
ruling providence of that blessed Being, who is 
sometimes pleased, in his mysterious operations, 
to produce the same effects from causes appa- 
rently different ; and on the other hand, as in 
our own case, to bring forth results the most op- 
posite, from one and the same cause. For there 
is no doubt that the heavy rolling of our ship, 
occasioned by the violent gale, which was the real 
origin of all our disasters, contributed also most 
essentially to our subsequent preservation; since, 
had not Capt. Cobb been enabled, by the great- 
ness of the swell, to introduce speedily through 
the gun-ports the immense quantity of water that 
inundated the hold, and thereby checked for so 
long a time the fury of the flames, the Kent 
must unquestionably have been consumed, be- 
fore many, perhaps before any of those on board, 
could have found shelter in the Cambria. 

But it is unnecessary to dwell on an insulated 
fact like this, amidst a concatenation of circum- 
stances, all leading to the same conclusion, and 
so closely bound together as to force us to con- 
fess, that if a single link in the chain had been 

5 * 


54 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


withdrawn or withheld, we must all probably 
have perished. 

The Cambria, which had been, it seems, un- 
accountably detained in port nearly a month af- 
ter the period assigned for her departure, was, 
early on the morning of the fatal calamity, pur- 
suing at a great distance a-head of us, the same 
course with ourselves ; but her bulwarks on the 
weather side having been suddenly driven in, by 
a heavy sea breaking over her quarter, Captain 
Cook, in his anxiety to give ease to his laboring 
vessel, was induced to go completely out of his 
course, by throwing the brig on the opposite 
tack, by which means alone he was brought in 
sight of us. Not to dvveil on the unexpected, 
but not unimportant facts, of the flames having 
been mercifully prevented, for eleven hours, from 
either communicating with the magazine for- 
ward,* or the great spirit-room abaft, or even 
coming into contact with the tiller-ropes, — any 
of which circumstances would evidently have 
blasted all our hopes, — I would remark, that un- 
til the Cambria hove in sight, w T e had not dis- 
covered any vessel whatever for several days 


* The magazine, in many of the Indiamen, contrary, I be- 
lieve, to the practice in ships of war, is under the forecastle. 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


55 


previous ; nor did we afterwards see another un- 
til we entered the chops of the channel. It is 
to be remembered too, that had the Cambria, 
with her small crew, been homeward instead of 
outward bound, her scanty remainder of provi- 
sions, under such circumstances, would hardly 
.have sufficed to form a single meal for our vast 
assemblage ; or if, instead of having her lower 
-deck completely clear, she had been carrying 
out a full cargo, there would not have been time, 
under the pressure of the danger and the vio- 
lence of the gale, to throw the cargo overboard, 
and certainly, with it, not sufficient space in the 
brig to contain one half of our number. 

When I reflect, besides, on the disastrous con- 
sequences that must have followed, if, during our 
passage home, which was performed in a period 
most unusually short, the wind had either veered 
round a few points, or even partially subsided, 
which must have produced a scene of horror on 
board, more terrible if possible than that from 
which we had escaped ; — and above all, when 1 
recollect the extraordinary fact, and that which 
seems to have the most forcibly struck the whole 
of us, that we had not been above an hour in 
Falmouth harbor when the wind, which had all 


56 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


along been blowing from the south-west, sudden* 
ly chopped round to the opposite quarter of the 
compass, and continued uninterruptedly for sev- 
eral days afterwards to blow strongly from the 
north-east ; — one cannot help concluding, that 
he who sees nothing of a Divine Providence in 
our preservation, must be lamentably and wilful- 
ly blind “ to the majesty of the Lord.” 

As little time as possible was lost, after our 
arrival at Falmouth, in reporting to Colonel Fen- 
wick, the Lieutenant Governor of Pendennis Cas- 
tle, the deplorable circumstances under which we 
had returned to port, and the urgent necessity 
there existed for our instant removal ashore ; and 
with the tender sympathy which characterizes 
that old and distinguished officer, did he hasten, 
long before day-light, to take steps for the dis- 
embarkation and comfort of the troops and sai- 
lors. Capt. King, R. N., to whose kind anxieties 
and active exertions we had also much reason to 
feel indebted, as soon as our condition was com- 
municated to him, called into immediate requi- 
sition the numerous boats at his disposal ; and 
in the course of the morning, we all prepared, 
with thankful and joyful hearts, to replace our 
feet on the shores of old England. 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


57 


The ladies, always destined to form our van- 
guard, were the first to disembark, and were met 
on the beach by immense crowds of the inhabit- 
ants who appeared to have been attracted thither 
less by idle curiosity, than from the sincerest de- 
sire to alleviate in every possible manner their 
manifest sufferings. 

The sailors and soldiers, cold, wet, and almost 
naked, quickly followed ; the whole forming, in 
their haggard looks and endless variety of their 
costume, an assemblage at once as melancholy 
and grotesque as it is possible to conceive. So 
eager did the people appear to be to po out 
upon us the full current of their sympathies, that 
shoes, hats, and other articles of urgent necessi- 
ty, were presented to several of the officers and 
men, before they had even quitted the point of 
disembarkation. And in the course of the day, 
many of the officers and soldiers, and almost all 
the females, were partaking, in the private houses 
of individuals, of the most liberal and needful 
hospitality. 

But this flow of compassion and kindness did 
not cease with the impulse of the more imme- 
diate occasion that had called it forth. For a 
meeting of the inhabitants was afterwards held, 


58 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


where subscriptions in clothes and money to a 
large amount, were collected for the relief of the 
numerous sufferers. The women and children, 
whose wants seemed to demand their first care, 
were speedily furnished with comfortable (Noth- 
ing, and the poor widows and orphans with de- 
cent mourning. Depositories of shirts, shoes, 
stockings, &,c. were formed for the supply of 
the officers and private passengers ; and the sick 
and wounded* in the hospital, were made the 
recipients, not only of all those kindly attentions, 
and medical assistance, that could tend to re- 
move or soothe their temporal suffering, but 
were also invited to partake freely of the most 
judicious spiritual consolation and instruction. 
This uninterrupted march of charity was con- 
ducted by the ladies of Falmouth, who were 
zealously accompanied on it, by the whole body, 
in the vicinity, of that peculiar sect of Christians, 
who have ever been as remarkable for their un- 
assuming pretensions and consistent conduct, as 
for unostentatiously standing in the front ranks 
of every good work. And so strong is the rea- 

* Many of the officers and men were severely bruised, in the 
course of their exertions on board the Kent, or in endeavoring 1 
to effect their escape. 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


59 


son which T, in particular, have to associate in 
my mind, all that is sincere, considerate, and 
charitable, with the Society of Friends, that the 
very badge of Quakerism will, I trust, hencefor- 
ward prove a sufficient passport to the best feel- 
ings of my heart. 

On the first Sunday after our arrival, Colonel 
Fearon, followed by all his officers and men, ac- 
companied by Captain Cobb, and the officers and 
private passengers of his late ship, hastened to 
prostrate themselves before the throne of the 
heavenly grace, to pour out the public expression 
of their thanksgiving to their Almighty Preserver. 
The scene was deeply impressive ; and it is ear- 
nestly to be hoped, that many a poor fellow who 
listened, perhaps for the first time in his life with 
unquestionable sincerity and humility to the voice 
of instruction, will be found steadily prosecuting, 
in the strength of God, the good resolutions that 
he may on that solemn occasion have formed, until 
he be able to say, as one of the greatest Generals 

of antiquity did, “ that it was good for him to 

✓ 

have been afflicted, for before he was afflicted 
he went astray, but that afterwards he was not 
ashamed to keep God’s word.” 

In the course of a few days, the private pas- 


GO 


NARRATIVE OF 'THE 


sengers and most of the sailors of our party, 
were dispersed in various directions : such of 
the crew of the Kent as had not, by their pre- 
vious!) inhumane and insubordinate conduct, 
forfeited al! claim to the slightest indulgence, 
having received from the proverbial liberality of 
Captain Cobb, a sufficient sum to bear their ex- 
penses to their respective homes. And the 
troops, after having incurred to the excellent 
inhabitants of Falmouth and the adjacent towns, 
a debt of gratitude which none of them can ever 
hope to repay, were embarked on the 13th for 
Chatham ; where they are at present enjoying, 
through the kind consideration and sympathy of 
his Royal Highness the commander-in-chief, 
that degree of relaxation and quiet, of which 
they seem so much to stand in need, previously 
to their proceeding to their ulterior destination. 

Notwithstanding the unexpected length to 
which I have already extended this little narra- 
tive, I cannot allow myself to close it without 
offering to my late companions on board the 
Kent, into whose hands it may possibly fall, 
should you see meet to publish it, a few very 
plain and simple observations, which I think 
worthy of their serious consideration, and the 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


61 


importance of which I desire to have deeply im- 
pressed upon my own mind. None of those 
soldiers who were in the habit of reading their 
Bibles can have failed to notice that faith in Je- 
sus Christ, the Son of God, is therein made the 
great pivot on which the salvation of man hinges; 
that the whole human race, without distinction 
of rank, nation, age, or sex, being justly exposed 
to the wrath of Almighty God, nothing but the 
precious blood of Christ which was shed on the 
cross, can possibly atone for their sins ; and that 
faith in this atonement can alone pacify the con- 
science, and awaken confidence towards God as 
a reconciled Father. If, therefore, “ he that be- 
lieveth in Christ shall be saved, and he that be- 
lieveth not shall be damned,” be the unequivocal 
language of Jehovah, either expressly declared, 
or obviously implied in every page of that record 
which he has vouchsafed to us of his Son ; is it 
not a question of the deepest concernment to 
every one professing any regard for divine reve- 
lation, whether he really understands and be- 
lieves that record, or whether he is able to give, 
not only to others, but to himself, a reason of 
this hope that is in him ? 

From the influence of education or example, 

6 


62 NARRATIVE OF THE 

the absence of serious reflection, an attention to 
the outward ordinances of religion, a regard to 
many of the proprieties and decencies of life, 
and a forgetfulness that the religion of the Bible 
is a religion of motives rather than one of ob- 
servances, — minds easily satisfied on such sub- 
jects may persuade themselves that they are 
spiritually alive while they are dead, — that they 
are amongst the sincere disciples of the blessed 
Redeemer, and fully interested in his salvation, 
while they may have neither part nor lot in the 
matter. But if, at the hour of death, when all 
external support shall slide away, the soul should 
be awakened to the consciousness of its real con- 
dition ; if it should be made to see, on the one 
hand, the spirituality and exceeding breadth of 
the divine law, and be quickened, on the other, 
to a sense of its unnumbered transgressions ; if 
the mercy of God out of Christ, in which so 
many vainly and vaguely trust, should become 
obscured by the inflexible justice and spotless 
holiness of his character ; and if the solitary 
spirit, as it is dragged towards the mysterious 
precipice, is made to hear, from a voice which 
it can no longer mistake, “ Cursed is every one 
who continueth not in all things that are written 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


63 


in the law to do them/’ — how unspeakably mis- 
erable must be the condition of the man who 
thus discovers, for the first time, that the sand 
which he had all his life-time been mistaking for 
the “ Rock of Ages,” is now giving way under 
his feet, and that his soul must speedily sink in- 
to that state where “ the tree forever lieth as it 
falleth where “ he that is unjust must be un- 
just still ; he that is unholy, unholy still ;” and 
where there is “ no work, nor device, nor know- 
ledge,” nor repentance. 

But that I may not be misunderstood, or be 
supposed to favor principles of barren specula- 
tion, more delusive and dangerons to their pos- 
sessors, and to the best interests of society, than 
absolute ignorance itself, — I would remind the 
gallant men to whom I am now more especially 
addressing myself, that “ that faith which saves 
the soul,” not only “ worketh” invariably “ by 
love,” and gradually “ overcometh the world,” 
but that “ it is the gift of God,” implanted in the 
heart by his Holy Spirit, even by that Spirit 
which is freely given to every one that earnestly 
asketh. And however unable the simple sol- 
dier may be to explain either the nature or the 
manner of its operation, he must not deceive 


64 


NARRATIVE OF THE 


himself into the persuasion that he is possessed 
of this precious grace, unless he feels it bring- 
ing forth in his life and conversation the abund- 
ant fruits that necessarily spring from it, and 
that cannot indeed be produced without it. He 
will be zealous and stead in the performance 
of duty, patient under fatigue and privation, so- 
ber amid temptations, calm but firm in the hour 
of danger, and respectfully obedient to his of- 
ficers ; he will honor his king, be content with 
his wages, and do harm to no man. 1 is piety 
will be ardent, but sober ; his prayers will be 
earnest and frequent, but rather in secret than 
before men ; he will not be contentious or dis- 
putatious, but rather desirous of instructing 
others by his example than by his precepts; 
making his light so shine before them, in the 
simplicity of his motives, the uprightness of his 
actions, in his readiness to oblige, and by the 
whole tenor of his life, that they seeing his good 
works, may be led, by the Divine blessing, to 
acknowledge the reality, and power, and beauty 
of religion, and be induced in like manner to 
glorify his heavenly Father, In short, in com- 
parison with his thoughtless comrades, he must 
not only aspire to become a better man, but 


LOSS OF THE KENT. 


05 


from the constraining motives of the gospel, 
struggle to be also in every essential respect a 
better soldier. 

In conclusion, I would observe, that if any 
class of men, more than another, ought to be 
struck with awe and gratitude by the goodness 
and providence of God, it is they who go down 
to the sea in ships, and see his wonders in the 
great deep ; or if any ought to familiarize their 
minds with death, and its solemn consequences, 
it is surely soldiers, “ whose very business it is 
to die.” May all those then, especially, who 
lately possessed the privilege, but rarely granted, 
of being allowed, in the full vigor of health, and 
in the absence of all the bustle and excitement 
of battle, to contemplate, from the very brink of 
eternity, the awful realities that reign within it, 
as many of their departing comrades were hur- 
ried through its dreaded portals, be now led, in 
the respite which has been given them, to re- 
member that this alone is the accepted time, 
and this the day of salvation ; for while some 
may defer the subject “ to a more convenient 
season,” the message may come forth, as it late- 
ly did, at an hour when it is least expected, 
“ This night thy soul is required of thee,” 


v 


Lost in the Destruction of the Kent. 

54 soldiers, 1 woman, and 20 children, be- 
longing to the 31st regiment, — 1 seaman and 5 
boys — total bl individuals. 


PSALM. 

/ 

Thy works of glory, mighty Lord, 
Thy wonders in the deeps, 

The sons of courage shall record, 
Who trade in floating ships. 

At thy command the winds arise, 
And swell the tow’ring waves ; 
The men astonish’d mount the skies 

And sink in gaping graves. 

# 

Again they climb the wat’ry hills, 
And plunge in deeps again ; 

Each like a tott’ring drunkard reels, 
And finds his courage vain. 

Frighte 1 to hear the tempest roar, 
They pant with fluttering breath, 
And hopeless of the distant shore, 
Expect immediate death. 


68 


PSALM. 


Then to the Lord they raise their cries, 
He hears their loud request, 

And orders silence through the skies, 

o y 

And lays the floods to rest. 

Sailors rejoice to lose then* fears. 

And see the storm allay’d : 

Now to their eyes the port appears ; 
There let their vows be paid. 

Tis God that brings them safe to land ; 

Let thoughtless mortals know, 

Thai waves are under his command, 
And all the winds that blow. 

Oh that the sons of men would praise 
The good ness of the Lord ! 

And those that see thy wondrous ways, 
Thy wondrous love record ! 








